


The Secret Summer Project

by vinceLaChroix



Series: Brynmor's Hogwarts Years [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Exploration, Family, Family Bonding, Family Secrets, Gen, Magic, OC, Summer Vacation, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Vacation, Witchcraft, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinceLaChroix/pseuds/vinceLaChroix
Summary: Brynmor is a fifteen year old witch. It's her summer vacation and she has a plan to make her next year at Hogwarts more interesting. However, there are always family matters and there are always chores.
Series: Brynmor's Hogwarts Years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752334
Comments: 5





	1. Chores, the Attic and Antics

A stream of inventive curses flew over the gentle hills. She had always considered herself to be particularly good at cursing. Casting them with a wand had turned out to be a lot more difficult than using her barbed tongue. But since she was not at school and not yet of age Brynmor Hosking had to resort to the less magical method.

“May you eat doxy feet! I’ll put a boggart under your bed, you smarmy goat! I hope you’ll hex your hair off!”

She paused to catch her breath and banish errand strands of hair. She then continued:

“I hope a dragon burns your acres and giants ruin your fields! You’ll rue the day you ever set eyes on me you ugly, deceitful, evil-smelling representation of vain bitchiness!”

The object of her curses eyed her lazily. Eventually they said: “If, my dear, you’d spent your time more productively you’d already be finished. Now push off and continue your chores.”

Brynmor glared at the portrait. It was bad her father had saved the damn thing from her grandmother’s house last Christmas, but did it have to hang right here?

The spade went into the earth like a knife into rock. It should have gone through like a knife through butter, but something was wrong with the earth. She frowned and tried again. The spade would not budge. Then slowly and deliberately the earth turned into stone. Brynmor drew a deep breath.

“Mortimer Fitzgerald Wilberforce Hosking! When I get my hands on you, you fat, stinking arse of an ogre, you’ll be sorry!”

The bright laugh of her older cousin went over her curses. From his lounging spot atop the family tower, he had evidently watched and decided to sabotage her work.

“Oh, just change it back there’s a good girl” muttered the portrait.

“I can’t” Brynmor breathed back. “I’m underage, remember?”

“Tough luck, in my day we didn’t pay attention to little details like that.”

“Must have been nice. You must be glad you’re dead.”

“But we did pay attention to manners. Hop to it then.” it answered huffily.

There was nothing for it. The stupid garden wouldn’t turn itself without magic. She grumbled more rude words and fiddled with her hair again. One more thing that would have to go eventually.

***

Brynmor “Bryn” Hosking was fifteen years old. Surrounded by siblings, cousins and parents who veered excitingly from the hilarious to the devoted kind of Wizard or Witch she had become slightly quieter and more studious. When she had entered House Ravenclaw four years ago it had been a change of pace. Meeting people who enjoyed using their brains and thinking things over rather than just going out and doing them. Suddenly it had become possible to shine. However, today Bryn had also decided just to do something.

Unfortunately, since she was, as she had said, underage and on vacation she had cut her hair using scissors.

“What the hell happened to you?” asked Cousin Thelma, always quick on the uptake.

“I cut my hair.” Bryn answered honestly.

“What? Why? How?”

“With my hands, dummy, what do you think?”

Thelma got up and ran her hair through Bryn’s uneven short straw-coloured patches.

“Deary, you could have said” she sighed “I could have done that for you”.

Bryn was taken aback. “You could have?”

“Yes. I worked at a muggle hairdressers for 2 months for a project! And besides, we used to do that all the time at school. Really, it’s much safer than doing it by magic.”

Bryn was amazed. The thought, if she was honest, had never occurred to her. Maybe, she thought, the same was true for digging up the garden. Also, you already had a heavy object in your hands to hit any pesky gnomes.

“I could salvage it I suppose.:” Thelma mused.

Bryn got up and, for the first time in quite a while, gave her cousin a hug.

“That would be nice.”

***

It had started out, as many things do, as a strange fancy. There hadn’t been any particular reason for it. She was doing fine at school and knew it but “fine“ was only a lazy weekend at the lake away from being “average”. Brynmor had not taken in many values from her family but being “average” was nothing she’d ever be able to live down. Not with these siblings and cousins around being accomplished and respectable, good looking and everything. Bryn’s mind made a singsong.

So she had resolved to do something special over the summer. However, being forbidden to do much magic outside of school was something of a hindrance. So there was nothing for it.

“No way!” her oldest sister had said. Her emerald green hat almost touched the ceiling as she made herself to be even taller.

“Oh, COME ON!” Brynmor had wailed. “I’m not asking for a love potion or anything!”

“Well, you say that… but it’s not just that. I’m a research witch! There are experimental charms in there that can be quite dangerous...”

“Lizzy, I can hand over my wand if you insist so I wouldn’t be able to...”

It cut no ice with the pale face.

“Don’t give me that! Just reading them can be dangerous… besides… I know you have a good memory, a particularly good one and there’s no chance I’ll be having you experimentally cursing a paramour with a something you juuuust happen to recall!”

The younger witch blinked.

“A para what now?”

“Never mind. This discussion is over!”

That face half between sternness and amusement was merciless. Bryn knew it was a choice between abasement and trickery.

She chose abasement. Do Lizzy’s bidding and help her with her research. It seemed like “helping the aurors with their inquiries”.

It took her all the way into the garden, on her knees, down into the cellars and up into the attic.

The garden was not the worst. That was honour was reserved for the attic.

***

A wizard’s house attracts things like cheese or dead bodies attract things. A magical family house thus attracts similar things like a dead whale on the ocean floor. Bryn heard the giggle of the gnomes when she opened the hatch. _Right, best fist forward…_

When the gnomes had retreated to the safe space behind the chimney Bryn took in her surroundings. There were… crates, old trunks, suitcases, boxes and a lot of oddly shaped apparatus. Her grandfather Nikodemus had owned a potion business and some 100 years later they still kept the various cauldrons, retorts and other bulbous glass and metalware on the off chance that one of his descendants might become an alchemist. Bryn thought it unlikely as long as Snape was the potions master at Hogwarts. _Maybe Melinda would have to go abroad for schooling,_ she thought, as she picked her way carefully through the mess. Dust and cobwebs were only present in patches. On occasion the attic got cleaned by the ghoul who took up winter residence here and sometimes her mother would lead an expedition up here to retrieve a mysterious item like an infant’s cradle or the book that held the recipe for purple dye.

“Margot?” she called. There was no response. A moment later she found the ghoul’s deserted bed. It was the height of summer after all. There were creaks in the gloom.

“If it’s any of you little bastards” she warned. Then she froze. A large wooden chest with iron hinges and worn leather straps around had moved ever so slightly. She stared at it, struck. Then it moved again. And again. The young witch began to back off. _Don’t let it be..._ her booted heel struck something made of glass which fell over and made a brilliant noise. The chest froze. Then it burst open and from its depths sprang something which made Brynmor scream and dive backwards. She scrambled through the odds and ends of a long family history. Behind her came loud squelching and hissing noises. They said _teeth_ and _claws._ She partly jumped but mostly fell down the hatch.

“Merlin’s beard, girl, what are you doing?” asked Lizzy looking down at her. Bryn picked herself up and glared. “You didn’t tell me there was a boggart up there, you monstrous hag!”

“So?”

“I. can. Not. Use. Magic and in any case, YOU STILL HAVE MY WAND!”

Lizzy held up her hand and looked at the small wooden object as if she had been unaware she’d been holding it all the while.

“So I have.” she frowned. “I guess I can help you..”

“How gracious. YOU wanted that stupid book collected so you’d better.”

Her sister breathed a heavy sigh and reluctantly climbed up towards the attic. Bryn heard her footsteps creak on the floorboards. There was a pop, a hiss and then the familiar cry of “ridiculous!”. All was silence again until Lizzy dropped back down. Annoyingly she did it a lot more gracefully than Bryn had done.

“All clear?”

“All clear. Your nasty nightmare has gone.”

“Thanks _so much!”_ Bryn snapped and back up she went. Now safe apart from pebble chucking gnomes she could go about her business. Or rather Lizzy’s business. She found the first clue behind the now vacated chest. Thin lines across the wood indicated that a door had been hidden there long ago. Studying it for a while Bryn traced the outline with a finger and then its entirety with her flat hand. _No keyhole or markings..._ _no clues…_ She turned around walked a few paces back. The sun was up high and shone through the grimy attic windows with force. Dust glittered in the beams like snow on a much colder morning. _What would really fox one of us… one of the siblings or a nosy in-law…_ Her family had always been good at magic. They were proud of it. Bryn smiled.

She turned back and hit the panel with her flat hand. It sprang open. Bryn permitted herself a satisfied smile. _No magic does the trick indeed_ and then she wondered if it had been a test. It would be in character.

Carefully Bryn entered the passage beyond carrying one of her mother’s cold candles with her. She needn’t have worried. The bright sunlight illuminated the entirety very well even though no windows were visible just yet. The passage led to a narrow set of stairs which twisted upwards sharply and dizzyingly. Dust was thick but not disgustingly so. Maybe Margot knew about this bit as well and cleaned it occasionally. Finally, the stairs finished. Brynmor found herself in something like a study and work room. Thick, red carpet covered the floor. There was a very old-fashioned desk, a large bookcase, a workbench and a fireplace. Above it… then there were several screams.

The painting above the fireplace showed a marbled swimming pool with wisps of steam drifting above it. Several severely underdressed, no, naked young women had lounged nearby and had just dived into the water one and all when they saw her looking.

Bryn blushed and chuckled. “Good morning, ladies, don’t mind me, just fetching something.”

 _Seriously, grandfather,_ she thought. Was that really necessary? It looked a bit like the prefect’s bathroom in Hogwarts now that she thought about it. She risked another glance but about eight pairs of eyes watched her intently peering just over the edge of the water. _Okay, Bryn, focus! The bookcase, that’s a good place to start…_

It took more than an hour. Some books very not even legible, some were hexed and refused to open, some were apparently blank. Bryn sighed deeply.

“What are you looking for?”

Bryn didn’t look up but tried to prize the volume three of “A treatise upon the mild persegonius abagensis extremis” open.

“Anything related to experimental charms” she mumbled after finally giving up. “My sister wants to expand upon what our grandfather did. Y’know, for work.”

The book went to the “uncooperative” pile.

“I could help you!”

She turned her head a bit. One of the bathing girls had climbed out of the pool and was looking out at her from near the frame.

“That would be very nice. I assume you noticed what the old devil was working on.”

“He talked to himself a lot.” said the woman “just like you do.”

Bryn almost blushed again wondering if she said anything particularly stupid. _Probably just cursing a lot._

“It’s a family habit” she said lamely. “My name is Brynmor.”

“Is it indeed? Now, have you tried the drawers over there yet?”

 _You could use some drawers_ , Bryn thought but stretched to reach the handle and pulled it open. It was yet another book charmed shut.

“I can’t open these” she said waving it about.

“I’m sure it’s important. Maybe your esteemed sister can open it.”

Bryn made an evil grin. “Would serve her right to do something herself”.

“Good to see the young folk get along” laughed the curious bather.

“You don’t look much older. It’s lucky you don’t age!”

“Oh” came the reply “but I was old once. So old I died. And now I’m just this.” Bryn blinked.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard to tell sometimes if it’s a memento or just a painting.”

“Don’t worry girl.”

Bryn turned around slightly. “Are you all… mementos or is it just you?”

The woman laughed. “Nono, these fair beauties were here before me. They’re good company by and large. I, uh, got added later.”

Bryn was fascinated despite herself. “I didn’t even know that was possible. I wonder how they did that.”

The lady threw her arms up dramatically causing Bryn to look away quickly.

“Beats me. Probably a wand and some paint?” There was a splash. She had dived back into the water.

Bryn sighed and turned back. The second drawer in the desk yielded something more promising. “Nikodemus V. Hosking – Opus Exp. IV” read the binding. It was all gibberish to her but maybe Lizzy could make use of it as well. But where was that one volume…

She found it by having it drop on her. Cursing reflexively, she pushed the book off her. It was absolutely enormous. Even larger than it had seemed when she had tried to pull it from the highest shelf. But the gold around the edges seemed legit and the leather was suitably noble. It was also so heavy it had left a bruise on her forehead.

“Are you okay, dear?” came a voice from the painting. There was a chorus of concern.

“I think so” she mumbled. “This day has been way too physical.” She stopped. Something else had fallen along with the heavy book. It was a tiny painting. A sketch really. It showed the same woman who was memorialised in the large painting. The sketch winked at her in a racy way and then continued to smile vaguely into the middle distance. It said “Alice, 1857” on the back. Bryn tucked the picture into her pocket and got up. It was a strain picking up the book and when she managed it there was applause. As she staggered towards the stairwell, she caught a glimpse of the painting and all the bathers clapping their hands. Alice waved.

“Come again, young Brynmor, I’d like to hear of our family!”

“Definitely” she gasped and tried to descend the stairs without tumbling her mind filled with pain from her arms and the image of a dozen bare breasts.

***

“What HAVE you been doing in the attic? The racket was quite distracting!”

Dinner had proceeded quite well up to this point. No one had yet thought of making the youngest peel potatoes for a laugh.

“Lizzy fought a boggart” she said and inserted more food to excuse herself from saying more.

“Oh, what a nuisance!” her mother rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

“Not a problem, mum” Lizzy said and winked at Bryn who continued to chew her food innocently. You never knew if their parents would see it as cheating if their oldest would use their esteemed ancestor's work or if they’d laud it as continuing a family tradition. Also, it was just fun having a secret. It was hard to keep them in a large family.

“Was nice to have a chore I couldn’t do.” Bryn mused “who would have thought that being forbidden to use magic would pay off in some way!”

That turned out to be a mistake almost immediately.

“Oh, don’t you worry we got plenty of things to do while you’re not studying.”

She bit down hard on the helpless food. 

“How’s work going, Lizzy?” her father asked from across the table.

Mortimer Hosking was a wizard with a wise demeanour which completely belied the fact that he had perhaps unwisely spend many years abroad dealing with the mundane business of acquiring ingredients for a potion supplier. It was something of a hangover of the time when the family had had a hand in the business themselves. Mortimer Hosking had found a smile and a wise look easier to produce than a working potion.

“Not moving a lot, I’m afraid” answered Lizzy. Her face was somewhat gloomier than usual when desert was coming up. “The problem is one of safety. It’s quite easy to experiment with charms but doing it in a way that permits continued experimentation is, well, bloody hard.”

“I see” said Mr. Hosking spearing more meat “can’t just throw anything into a cauldron if you want to keep using it.”

“Or keep your eyebrows” Bryn threw in and the whole family agreed.

“So how do you go about it?” asked Mr. Hosking his curiosity evidently roused.

Lizzy sighed.

“Simply put you just compile a list of movements or deviations from a spell that are safe to do and compare them to similar lists. Then you figure out of there are overlaps. Find patterns, that sort of thing. Magic can be predictable.” she stated.

Many eyebrows rose.

“Is that so?” her mother in a sceptic voice.

Lizzy shrugged.

“Who knows. It’s a theory. Gotta start somewhere.” Everyone nodded.

Mrs. Hosking put down her fork neatly and stared into space for a while, listening to her family eating. Then she said: “Didn’t your father do something like that, dear?”

Mortimer scratched his chin. “Maybe? Who knows what the old devil did during his long life?”

Bryn recognized an opening there to change the subject. It required bravery and selflessness, so she hesitated a whole ten seconds before deciding to be rash again: “Speaking of starting somewhere, mum, what do you want me to do first tomorrow?”

“Oh, Bryn, dear, good to remind me. Let’s see...”

 _You owe me a bit, Lizzy_ she put into a single glance.

***

Twenty minutes later the sisters conferred in Lizzy’s bedroom. It was in many ways a slightly more grown version of her own. Odds and ends, chiefly books but also other various creative detritus, were either neatly arranged in cases and shelves or haphazardly strewn about depending on whether it was currently being of interest or not. There were always things there which Bryn wanted to ask about but did not.

“Any luck with the dairies? Or notebooks, whatever they are.”

Lizzy shook her head. “Not really. If they are attuned to him, we may never get to read them.”

Bryn deflated a bit. “Bummer. Would have loved to find out what they were. Could be anything. Poison recipes, neat curses. Notes on the naked ladies.”

“The what?” laughed Lizzy.

“I Swear! The old man hung this giant picture of naked girls swimming in his secret study!”

She laughed even more. “Miracle he ever got any work done.”

“It is distracting” Bryn agreed quietly. “First, they shriek at you all _intruder, hide_ and then they get talky because no one has been with them for decades!”

Lizzy ruffled her hair. “That bad? Did they accuse you of ogling?”

“No. But you try having a serious conversation with a naked painting. And naturally they were all like nymphs! And me with my patchwork hair and face full of dust!”

She bend down to lift the giant book to hide another blush.

Lizzy took it from her and smiled. “Don’t worry. Imagine they had been real people. That would have been worse!”

Bryn snorted. “What, like I would be breaking to a spa to find something for your research? That seems unlikely, even for you.”

“You never know. Magic hides in the oddest places, y’know.”

“After all this gardening and digging through dust I’d just infiltrate that spa to get some nice water time before making off with the treasure.”

Lizzy threw open the book. It creaked ominously.

“Really, you, infiltrating a spa full of nymphs? You’d stand out a bit.”

The young witch made a face and looked down upon herself.

“That, was genuinely unkind, sis.”

“I’m sorry, Bryn” Lizzy leaned over and gave her a hug. “Thelma will fix your hair in no time.”

 _Always more to fix_ said a part of her brain. Other parts got angry at it. _That must be all this puberty thing they keep going on about._ She mused. She snuggled more against her sister and tried not to think too hard on the subject.

After a while she opened her eyes again. “Better now?” asked Lizzy softly. “Yeah. Let us have a look?”

“Only a glimpse. This might be off-limits to you as well.”

Bryn rolled her eyes at this level of caution but kept quiet. There was no point in arguing.

The enormous book was heaved upon the bed and it needed both witches to pry it open. It said THE BOOK OF ALL MY HOURS and their ancestor’s spider-like signature sat below it.

“Now what might that be?” wondered Bryn. “You ever heard of something like that?”

“I know of a _book of hours_ ” said Lizzy “it’s a book rich muggles owned in medieval times full of illustrations, prayers and uplifting stories and the like.”

“Seems unlikely.”

“Yes and also the title.. _all my hours_.. that’s not how that’s ever phrased as far as I know. Might be a pompous way of saying _my life_?”

They flipped the page. The next one was blank.”

Bryn sighed.

“Oh good. Another one.”

Lizzy chewed her lip.

“Let’s talk to it.” she suggested and produced her wand.

“I’m Elizabeth Djamilia Hosking and I wish to explore the hours of my grandfather!” she exclaimed and tapped the blank page with her wand.

“Oh, look at _you!”_ Bryn teased before shutting up immediately when the book started to write a reply.

 **Good day to you, young Elizabeth** it wrote. **What do you seek from these pages?**

They exchanged looks. “Just tell it?” suggested Bryn.

“It’s not something I can put into a simple sentence, Bryn.” She thought for a moment and then tapped the book again.

“I seek knowledge on experimental magic. Grandfather might have stored it inside you.”

**Knowledge is not for those weak of mind and purpose.**

“That’s cheeky for a bunch of leather, paper and a spark of magic!”

“Oh, you just need to know how to talk to these enchanted objects.” Lizzy performed a complicated series of movements with her wand hand as if she were painting words into the air.

“Elizabeth Djamilia Hosking is a research witch for the ministry of magic tasked to explore the boundaries of magic. Reveal your secrets to me, a rightful heir of your creator, for the benefit of all!”

Nothing happened for a few moments. Then more and more lines started to appear. The formed into a large, illuminated version of the word **index**.

Bryn stared at her sister. “You know, I feel this shouldn’t have worked.”

Lizzy smiled. “Why? It’s true. After a fashion. Knowing the moves helps.”

The younger girl shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder why all this is…”

Lizzy squeezed her arm while turning the pages with her wand. “Yes. me too. I don’t think we will ever really know.”

Bryn sighed and leaned against the wall. She closed her eyes. What a day it had been! Many thoughts buzzed around her head as she listened to the heavy pages moving and Lizzy’s weight shifting occasionally on the mattress. She felt very heavy.

“Tired?” asked Lizzy after a while.

“Mmh.” mumbled Bryn. “finding anything?”

“Quite a lot actually. It’s very interesting. Might even be something for you in it. Maybe.”

“Nice.” Bryn smiled.

“I’d study it some more now…” Lizzy began. Bryn flopped sideways and curled up as much as she could.

“Do that. Can I just lie here for a bit?”

Unseen Lizzy smiled and ruffled Bryn’s hair again.

“Of course you can.”

Bryn drifted off to sleep. Her mind was filled with a jumble of images. Doors locked and unlocked, books fell and flew off like geese and a collection of bathers got chased by an advancing wall of teeth screaming and jiggling.

***

She awoke in Lizzy’s bed when Morrah the cat tried to pull the blanket off her using all her claws.

“Ouch, what the..” she groaned and looked about her. Morrah gave her a long look. _This isn’t your bed, so I feel no remorse_ she seemed to say.

“Come on, you furball, there’s blanket enough for both of us.”

The cat considered her proposition and then took most of the blanket. It was a warm night though and she didn’t mind. Her sister must have decamped to one of the other rooms for the night, so she undressed and snuggled herself next to the black cat. When she drifted to sleep again with Morrah purring gently beside her she wondered if Lizzy had found anything interesting.


	2. Mealtimes and Quest Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine has a lazy day and gets a quest. Intentions are revlealed.

Birds had started to sing, and the sun come up when Morrah woke her more gently this time. The wet nose poked and prodded at her face and the purring rose to rival a muggle device for cutting grass.

“Merlin and Minerva, Morrah, I’ll move” grumbled Bryn and firmly pushed the cat away. Taking this as a promise Morrah jumped off the bed and meowed. 

“What time is it anyway…”

The clock told 6:30. Brynmor groaned and shook her head.

She got up and swooped Morrah off the floor.

“Might as well make breakfast then.”

They went downstairs into the kitchen. It was flooded with bright morning light. The colours from the many flowers in the garden beyond the large glass kitchen doors were intense and beautiful. She sat the cat down and found her some food. It was muggle stuff. Unidentifiable bits of meat in a gelatinous substance. Muggle ingenuity was apparent in mundane things and probably unappreciated by most. Morrah took to it with enthusiasm.

Bryn busied herself with water and kettle to make tea. As she poured herself a glass of water she wondered about the plumbing. How did it work exactly? She made a mental note. Eventually the water boiled and she made the tea. Morrah had finished her breakfast and had resumed rubbing herself against her bare shins. In the silence and light of the morning the young witch felt really calm for the first time in a while.

“My, aren’t you grateful this morning.” she told the cat “Is this thanks for me cleaning out gnomes so you didn’t have to? That’s not like you.”

The cat gave her a look that was as unfathomable as fate itself.

“Whatever it is, you are a beauty.”

Bryn sat down and fussed with the cat until Morrah got bored and with a flick of her tail and a playful swipe announced she had other things to do.

“Suit yourself.” muttered Bryn and took a heartfelt sip of tea. She savoured the moment. Then her glance fell to the chair outside the glass kitchen door on the veranda. The new Daily Prophet had been deposited there by the delivery owl. When she had brought it inside the front page was as depressing as it had been for the last few weeks. MINISTRY DENIES RUMORS was the usual theme nowadays and so it was today. Bryn shivered suddenly. Memories rose up inside her and pushed the more recent ones away. They had all been there during the tournament. And afterwards people in charge at the ministry had denied anything had happened. But something had. With a will Bryn pushed these thoughts away. She did not want fear of another war in her heart.

By the time she had, without the benefit of magic, of course, arranged more breakfast her mother appeared. The garish dressing gown was a sharp contrast to her usual appearance.

“Oh, you’re up early, dear. Have you made tea?

“Of course, mum.”

“That’s lovely. Thank you, dear.” her mother took a cup and sat down. She sighed as she surveyed the paper.

“One of these days Fudge will deny he was ever in charge of anything, so no blame attaches to him” she observed. “Toast, Brynmor?” 

“Gladly, mum.”

Mrs. Hosking flicked her wand and the table filled up completely. Something about the ease with which it was done made Bryn feel sad inside. She focused on her toast.

“Wasn’t he head of Magical Law Enforcement during... y’know?” she asked eventually.

“Quite so, dear. Did a decent job all things considered. Led the investigation into the Potter murders and the torture of the Longbottoms.”

“Right.”

“Quite shocking to see him now. Shadow of the man he was.”

Bryn thought about this. She had only ever seen the Minister from a distance and he always looked a bit foppish as leaders went.

“Maybe it’s the weight of the office.” she ventured.

Her mother snorted. “Maybe. Maybe it’s just jealousy. Who will look to him for leadership if the rumours are true?”

Bryn shrugged. “Don’t know.” she said honestly. She had her own idea. When she tried to think of someone to protect the world from a resurgent dark lord, Fudge indeed wasn’t the man she pictured.

They ate in silence for a while. When the clock struck eight there were occasional creaks from upstairs.

“Have you thought of something for me to do first, mum?” asked Bryn and crossed her fingers under the table.

“Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me, dear. First -” she paused for a moment “I would suggest you put some more clothes on. Then we can talk.”

Bryn looked down upon herself.

“Good plan.” she mumbled and got up. By the time the second photograph on the stairwell had whistled at her face was as red as a beet. She rushed into Lizzy’s room and grabbed what she had discarded for the night and not bothered to put back on.

****

Mrs. Hosking only found light chores for her youngest daughter that day and Bryn was glad. It kept her busy and made her feel useful. During teatime most of the household conferred in one corner of the garden. There was cake on small china plates and tea in large mugs and enormous amounts of bees and butterflies in the shrubs around them. Not a single gnome showed its ugly face.

“Any improvements since yesterday, Elizabeth?” asked their father satisfied with a large slice of cake.

“I’m finally making some headway, dad, so I might return to the office in a few days.”

“Oh, what a pity and delight!” he said and helped himself to more.

They all nodded in agreement because who wouldn’t. Bryn gave her a sly look though and Lizzy gave her a wink. So it might be time later.

Talk turned to gossip and politics so Bryn tuned out and concentrated on the sweet taste explosion in her mouth. Brandy infused toffee cake with strawberries was a crime against dentistry and waistlines and a balm for all souls. Its sweet heaviness beat listening to the misdeeds of neighbours and the oddities of the alchemical supply business by a mile.

“Brynmor, are you listening to your sister?”

Her mother’s voice cut through the culinary reverie.

“No.” she admitted and swallowed the last morsel of cake.

“Well, say it again for her then, Lizzy dear.”

“Would you” said Lizzy, overstating every word “care to join me before dinner to help with some things?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“In a way.” She winked again.

“Oh, great.”

They rose and left their parents, Thelma and the cousins to fight out what dinner might be.

On the sweeping hills below the garden a child flew on a broomstick chasing after bumblebees and small birds nicely set against the golden light of the early evening. It was a sight to melt hearts which the two witches completely ignored. 

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Bryn when they had once again conferred in Lizzy’s bedroom.

“Well. You’re still set on your idea? The hexed diary?”

Bryn nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Well. It’s not easy and you can’t do it under my supervision either because of… y’know.”

“Yesyes.”

“So, what we’re gonna do is work out an instruction sheet which you can follow as soon as you are inside the Hogwarts Express.”

Brynmor’s eyes brightened. “What sounds great!”

“However…” said Lizzy more sternly “you’ll need to do a few things first. And not just help me with my research.”

Her younger sister nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

“First, you’ll need to go into the hills and find me some Wormwort, Dragon’s Tongue and Spifferleaf. Then down to the stream and find one or two semi-precious stones and finally maybe make a day trip to find a lunar louse.”

Bryn stared.

“You want me what?”

“Get all these things. I’ve made a list!”

She groaned and sat down. “Are you serious? That might take me days and then I’m just done with your stuff! What do I need to get for my project?”

Lizzy smiled a hugely satisfied smile.

“Some of those things are for you. But YOU don’t know which ones.”

Bryn made a face.

“Is that some sort of educational thing?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’m just cruel.” Lizzy smiled more brightly than cruelly “it will get you out of the house and spare you from doing any more cleaning for mum.”

“Oh good.”

“Cheer up! At least you are getting there, and it will mostly be your own work!” she tossed Bryn the list who caught it.

“Yeah right… well, let’s hope the environs here have been watched regularly. If I run into something like the attic boggart it will be a short quest.”

“I hate to disappoint you but the worst you might find is a doxy nest and they will just steal your hat and bite your ears.”

“How undignified.”

She got up to leave.

“Well, I’m off to plan my expedition through our ancestral lands. Farewell! I will return with the goods or perish trying.”

Lizzy nodded her mind clearly on other things now. “You do that. I’ll be here trying to wrestle knowledge from this tome.”

***

When she was back in her room Bryn first pulled down her potion books for a closer look. “What is all this anyway” she mused while regarding the list. So Wormwort and Dragon’s Tongue were plants. Spifferleaf was a strangely named mushroom but finding a lunar louse felt like a joke. Lunar lice, her trusty books confided, were lice that fed on certain magical plants under the light of the full moon. It seemed bonkers but there it was.

She spent half an hour writing down a list of possible places for the plants and the mushroom. Her quill hovered over the page as she thought. What semi-precious stones? They had to be a ploy. But she would have to look. She would have to try.

“DINNER!” came a voice from downstairs. Bryn put her quill back and searched the organized chaos around her for her bag. What else… sunhat, tinctures, tweezers, scissors, bottle and similar small but useful things. Bryn was sure that when Thelma had told her that a young witch should always be prepared she had meant something else but nevertheless she was prepared! Then she hurried downstairs.


	3. The Hills' Bad Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her quest Bryn explores her ancestral lands, braves the weather and encounters many things.

The next morning was just as bright but overnight rain had dampened the fields. Bryn had breakfast and afterwards returned to her carefully prepared equipment. After a few minutes she admired herself in the mirror. “Brynmor Hosking, lady explorer” she mused and tilted her black pointy hat slightly.  _ Yes. Just right. _

“What ARE you up to?” asked Mortimer when she passed him in the hall.

“Field work.” Bryn answered proudly.

“You gonna plow a field dressed like that?”

“Not THAT field work you git! Doing Lizzy’s bidding today.”

He nodded. “Mind doing my bidding tomorrow?”

She trod on his left foot and departed.

Her way led her out of the garden which was already thick with busy insects and bright flowers. Past the purely visual came the useful. Everyone in the family had assisted with spade and wand in making this acre of land a testament to the local love for agriculture. Everything from herbs to potatoes grew here including some things that should by rights not be able to do so. It could feed them and supply a small alchemy store all by itself it need be.

Bryn was grateful that she didn’t have to do chores there though. It had grown so much that her mother took pity on her and did it herself. Eventually she hopped over a low wall and stood suddenly, bewitchingly in the Hosking Hills.

They seemed to roll on to the horizon. Magic was at play here somewhere. The colour green was everywhere in leaves and blades of grass and even in appleblossoms.  _ Hold on… _ Bryn descended the first hill and then climbed up the next until she was underneath a copse of tall apple trees. The blossoms were indeed bright green. They even seemed to glow slightly in the morning sun.

“What are you...”

The tree shook gently.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” she said hastily. “No offence meant!”

The tree didn’t move. She breathed out.

“Odd.” She conceded “but pretty in its own way.”

She knelt down and brushed apart some of the undergrowth. There was no sign of Dragon’s Tongue. Pity. The next trees yielded little more. She sighed. It was hot already even though noon was still some time off. Finding these things out here was a lot harder than finding them in Professor Snape’s menacing cupboard. She left the copse behind her and descended into a gully. The air felt stifling further down and when the foliage overhead grew denser it became hotter still. Sweat ran down her neck and laminated her pack to her back. Brynmor sighed. It had to be summer, didn’t it.  _ Could have been worse _ she thought  _ in winter there’d be snow. And it would be impossible to get these ingredients. So this is better. Yeah. _ She trudged on, her eyes fixed at a 45° angle downwards to spot what she thought the tell-tale signs of Dragon’s Tongue were. 

Eventually the foliage thinned out even more and the gully turned into a gorge. Wind made itself known higher up but didn’t touch the young witch. She shook her head in resignation and climbed down further. She found the Dragon’s Tongue when it tried to lick her boots. 

Bryn made a little yelping sound and jumped back upsetting and mobilizing a mound of ants nearby. She glared at the gently undulating leaves. They had a rather odd pattern on them like the little spikes on a cat’s tongue. Bryn took the Taxonomists’ word for it that a Dragon had a similar tongue. She had seen enough of the large beasts during the Tri-Magic Tournament. Curious she moved closer slowly taking care not to upset the ants. Did the leaves move on their own accord or did it just feel like it? She sat down her pack and pulled out her gloves. Out here, right now, she really appreciated these little slips of Dragon hide. Gingerly Bryn reached out towards the leaves. Did they seem to recoil? She wasn’t quite sure. But then the dark green leaf curled back like a whip and lashed out.  _ No, it moved like a tongue! _ She hesitated. Her books hadn’t warned her about poison or anything... deciding that the ants had finally made a formal declaration of war she reached a decision and tore a few of the leaves off the larger stem. No poison seemed to ooze from the tears and no vines tried to grab her.

“Graceful Minerva” she whispered and, offering an unconditional surrender to the ants, withdrew a dozen steps to get her bearings. She could hear the wind above.

When she had climbed out of the gorge, which didn’t seem to be all that bad when looked at from the blissfully ignorant position of the next mound, it had started to rain. By the time she had climbed down the mound and was heading straight to the next clump of trees it was pouring. In minutes the ground was a muddy mess and small streams had appeared. 

“Mother of Manticores..” she cursed and glared at the scenery. She had reached the edge of the hills. From here they descended downwards into the forest proper. Water ran down at speed now. Bryn shivered. It was getting colder.  _ Think, girl.. _ Thunder rolled in the distance.  _ Curses.  _ Back into the gorge was no option. Going down here wasn’t really an option...  _ wait! _ She had spotted something a little further along the slope. It seemed promising. Navigating the slope was a nightmare of mud and water but with more curses to keep her spirits up she reached a cave.

It was a proper cave. Solid, trustworthy rock with a large chunk missing. It was a bit like finding a secret cave behind waterfall of mud. Bryn was really shivering now. She dumped her pack on the mossy rock. It seemed dry in here apart from what she had brought with her. Hard to make out much in the gloom but the cave seemed to lead about 3 meters into the bedrock. 

Brynmor emptied her boots. That was a start. She was drenched. She couldn’t remember when she had ever been this wet. Not even when she had jumped into the brook behind the house. Or got pushed there. 

From her pack she extracted a few candles and some other disposable material. It was as sodden as she was. She thought of her wand safe back in mother’s study. Then she remembered something long forgotten and despite her shivers grinned broadly. She gathered some ferns and moss. Bryn closed her eyes and thought of fire. She moved her hand over the damp candles again and again. At the fourth try they ignited. She sighed heavily.  _ Try tracing that, ministry!  _ Channelling the raw magic that manifested in Wizard infants was a very handy trick but discouraged by parents for obvious reasons.

With a small fire magically burning Bryn struggled out of her wet clothes. That proved a lot harder than it ought to have been and involved several strikes against the rocks. Water had filled up every fibre and had come between every layer. When she was wringing out her underwear her day had reached a new low. The thought of how absurd she must look made her oddly cheerful. But if the hills had any eyes they couldn’t see. 

Focusing all her energy into getting herself and as many of her belongings dry as fast as possible took one shivering hour. Outside rain continued to fall handily obscuring the cave and herself. With enough dry clothes on to stay warm Bryn savoured a few drops of her mother’s magic tea. It warmed her from within and staying close to the fire did the rest.

She rested and watched the rain with thoughts of perils passed in her mind.

  
  


The rain had turned the slopes into swamps and entire kingdoms of flying insects had emerged and were fighting for supremacy. Bryn set out for the forest. It involved a lot of sliding about. A few steps after she had entered the woods the air became damp and heavy but the ground was a lot less muddy. The canopy was thick and lush but dripped water on her at irregular intervals. 

It made finding Spifferweed easy. On several darker patches beneath trees the oddly shaped mushrooms grew energized by the recent rain. Bryn snatched them off the ground and hurried on. Her rumbling stomach told her that it was about noon now. But with two ingredients in the bag she was anxious to hurry on and so she cut a fast way through the forest and then made a large circling movement to reach the river. It took another hour. Wild blueberries made it sweeter.

The local river was famous for several things: First it never seemed to run out of fish. Second it increased in ferocity when Muggles came near it and third it was supposedly haunted. Bryn had spend half a night awake with her sisters and cousins watching it from a tent before she fell asleep. Naturally everyone told the younger children they had missed a real ghost and she hadn’t believed a word of it. But you did wonder.

Her parchment notes were still mostly legible but she could also remember. “Precious stones... Semi-precious stones..” she wondered aloud scanning the riverbank.  _ Shallows _ she decided  _ or a sandbank.  _ Periodically the flora tried to get in on the river but mostly the banks were flat and grass covered. She hiked along them for half an hour wondering if the grass was greener on the other side and if that had any relation to her chances of finding one of the desired rocks. There was a likely spot half a mile further. The river still flowed with gusto from the downpour but wasn’t more than 20cm deep in many places. Many rocks large and small were visible just under the surface. Sighing she dumped her pack on the bank, took off her boots and waded into the water. It was shockingly cold but welcome. The sun was now shining brightly again and out of the cover of trees it was as hot as it had ever been this day. 

_ Lookout for tell tale colours in the water  _ the book had said. But all the rocks and stones look shiny under water. Bryn wished she could simply do a summoning charm right now. Gingerly she waded on staring down in front of her. She rounded a bend in the river. A stout tree sat there half immersed in the water. It bulged upwards forming something akin to a cave. 

“Curious” she mumbled. Her attention was momentarily taken from the riverbed. She went closer to inspect the tree. “What the...” she breathed and almost slipped on a stone.

“Merlin’s arse” she groaned and caught her balance. There were something like tiny steps carved into the vaulting roots and leading down into the dark recesses of water and wood.

With haste she returned to her pack and carried it closer. With some difficulty she hitched-up and tied fast her trouser legs further and went back into the water to investigate. They were definitely tiny steps. Carved by some tiny hand into the tree. Bryn gave up and just kneeling down into the stream. It was wonderfully cold but now she could get an even closer look. She couldn’t make out where the steps might lead though and anyway she was way taller than maybe fifteen centimetres. 

She thought about it for a while. Then, deciding it was worth trying, she knocked on the wood using the knuckle of her right index finger. 

“Hello?” she called cautiously. 

“Hello, Miss!” said a voice next to her ear. There was a sudden tiny weight on her shoulder. For the second time this day Bryn gave an undignified yelp but managed not to fall sideways into the river.

“Woah, careful now, Miss, old Granby River can be mischievous!” 

The tiny weight moved across her arm and was gone. Onto the roots and into view hopped something Bryn had never seen before. It was the height of a garden gnome or of a doxy but looked nothing like them. It looked rather like one of the goblins of Gringott’s Wizard Bank but shrunken down to doxy height. It wore a tiny red cap on it’s head and had a beard the colour of raw wool and the size of a dandelion head. 

“Excuse me” Bryn mumbled and tried not to stare at the apparition. “Excuse” she started again “but what’s your name? I’ve never seen someone like you before.”

The tiny creature looked proud. “Folks like you, Miss, never look. You all just glance about you and assume! My name’s Fowler. I’m a river gnome!” 

“Can’t argue with that, Mr. Fowler. My name is Brynmor. I’m from the Hosking land beyond the hills here!”

Fowler narrowed his tiny brows. “How old are you, Miss?”

“Um. Fifteen.” 

Fowler laughed. “Might have known your grandfather then, Miss, just might have.”

She grinned. “That wouldn’t surprise me, Mr. Fowler. The old fox got around.”

Fowler nodded. “Maybe even his father.” He added “memory becomes tricky after a while.”

Brynmor was fascinated beyond herself. Contact with other sentient magical species was always tricky for reasons that the History of Magic lessons only alluded to but she wasn’t stupid. She could guess.

“Did my grandfather come to see you sometimes, Mr. Fowler?” she asked.

Fowler nodded. “Met me while fishing. Seemed a nice sort and so I talked to him. He came a few times as a young man. Then didn’t for a long time. Returned as an old man to tell me of his life. Made for a decent few evenings especially with that Firewhiskey he had made himself.”

“He had?” She hadn’t known her grandfather had also distilled whiskey. Probably in a cupboard somewhere.

“Oh yes. Good stuff too. Had a good thimble that night.”

Bryn nodded as if she knew what that meant.

“What were you doing in the river by the way, Miss Brynmor?”

“I, uh, am looking for semi-precious stones, Mr. Fowler.” Feeling that this wasn’t quite enough she added: “for my sister.”

Fowler brightened up. “Is she getting married?”

She laughed. “Not as far as I know. It’s for a spell.”

The gnome twirled his beard for a bit. “I see. Stones like that. Any in particular?”

Her notes were definitely soaked at this point. Memory served.

“Maybe bloodstones. Something of similar resonance.” She said, again as if she really knew what it meant. She thought she could feel Professor Snape glaring all the way from Hogwarts.

“But I have no idea. All these rocks look pretty from outside the water.”

He thought about that. Then Fowler said: “How about... I fish some out for you and you give me...” he breathed in deeply as if to sample the air “those mushrooms you have in your pack?”

“Of course!” she said immediately. It would be worth the detour. 

“Put them right there, girl, and let me dive!” 

Bryn nodded and walked over to her backpack and boots. She carefully unwrapped the mushrooms from their protective sheaf and placed them on the tree trunk. There was a weird blur under water and the rocks tumbled about as if something was burrowing under them. The young witch stared transfixed at that. Then with a pop the gnome appeared on the trunk next to the mushrooms which were his own height. He was carrying a small reddish stone in his arms and set it down. 

“These look TASTY!” he said and rubbed his stomach. “I’ll be back with another one for good measure!”

With another pop he vanished and there was a splash nearby. Bryn’s day had considerably improved. Her head was buzzing with excitement. Or maybe it was the heat. And her rumbling stomach.

“You sound” said Fowler appearing again and dropping another reddish stone on the tree “like you should be eating these shrooms, Miss!” 

“Are those really edible?” she asked. 

“Not sure about you big folks but we can make something tasty from Spiffyweed!”

Bryn nodded because she couldn’t think of anything else.

“Will two be enough, Miss?” asked Fowler then.

“Um. Yes. I think so. Uh. Thank you very much, Mr. Fowler!”

The gnome bowed. “A pleasure meeting you, young Miss Brynmor. Please, visit me again sometime and we can remember your grandfather together!”

She gave him a bright smile. “I would love to, Mr. Fowler” she said and meant it. 

With that she put on her boots and with the two bloodstones safely tucked away she set off again to pick some more Spifferweed.  _ I may just  _ she thought while walking and feeling ever more light-headed  _ had a thought about what to do about that damn louse. _

  
  


The early afternoon always coincided with the greatest heat. It was terribly hot and the water from the noon deluge had completely dried away. Brynmor was sweating profusely and her head didn’t feel any lighter. She held it up though because she felt pride at her accomplishment this day.

“Oh hey, you’re back” Thelma greeted her and gave her a good long look. “You look like you need some iced drink. And smell like you need a bath.”

“And I will” replied Brynmor and dropped her pack “do both of these things at the same time. Can you give the things I wrapped to Lizzy?” and with that she stumbled upstairs and moments later tore off all her repeatedly soaked garments and dropped herself into the most luxurious feature of the house: the bathtub. Less a tub and more a small pool it had taken about a generation of inventive masonry, tile laying, carpentry and magic to get it into the state it was today. Moments later she submerged herself in blissfully cold water. As she floated moments later it struck her for the first time that cutting her hair hadn’t been that bad of an idea. Not only were there no errand strands hanging in her face but it cut the washing time down to a triviality. She made a mental note to talk to Thelma soon. 

_ What a day.  _ But she had gotten most of what she set out to do.  _ Got the plants. Made fire. Got the mushrooms. Met a gnome. Got the precious stones. The prrrrecious...  _ she giggled to herself. Then, in this safest of spaces, she remembered the other time she had been naked today and giggled some more.  _ What a day. _ She looked forward to telling everyone about it at dinner. Most of it, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say - I made up the chapter title pun and wouldn't let go. Luckily I'm not a professional because no real editor would have let that in. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys my take on the magical reality of the british landscape - a landscape I only know from images and words made by others.
> 
> I also used cm instead of inches because... well, because it's what I know. I know Imperial would be more authentic but right now it's metric. I hope that's not immerson breaking.

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of a story that I wrote with my good friend Ch. It was just a way to insert some OCs into Hogwarts and have fun with this great setting. There MAY be something involving romance later but nothing in this so far. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> If anyone finds the sheer number of family members confusing I'll add an overview in the notes - just ask! It may also update soon to fix all the mistakes I didn't find the first time. 
> 
> It's dedicated to my friend, to my dear wife and to my sister.


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